in the Spring when it Rains

Gather ‘round, weary hearts,

from afar and anear,

for the story I tell

is one that you must hear.

 

While the feats are long past,

and the story is old,

all the persons remain;

to say “live” would be bold.

 

There is Treasure and Pleasure

and Measure within,

and in length, there is strength,

so at length, I begin:

 

In the midst of a desert,

and before ran the Nile,

I met there a goddess:

Her name was Denial.

 

Her beauty, it froze me.

The desert, it scorched.

‘Twas my heart she had scathed,

‘twas my soul she had torched.

 

At a time when I felt

nothing worthwhile remained,

and that all else was lost,

I realized I had gained

 

both a life and a love "

something worth dying for "

and no more would I want

or aspire or implore.

 

But it soon came to pass:

“All good things must conclude”,

for a well- broken heart

cannot simply be glued.

 

When at once I had felt

like I’d risen and died,

Woman took all I had,

and then dashed me aside.

 

Yet no anger divined

as I lay in the dust,

only “Why?” to the fate

that strikes only who trust.

 

My body felt wet

as I lay in the sand,

for the tears I had cried

formed a river quite grand.

 

And the pieces of my

broken heart turned to rock,

and the Temples still stand

there today, just to mock.

 

Much of my heart was broke,

but a fraction remains

and you might hear it sighing

in the Spring when it Rains.

 

As unreal as it seems,

I survived this downfall,

and my journey continued,

relayed now to all:

 

I escaped from the desert,

and though I went far,

the assault of the Goddess

left me with a scar.

 

A scar with a tingling,

a twitching, a burn,

that had such an effect,

you would think I would learn,

 

that many times…

But I’m getting off task;

I’ll return to my story,

so now that you ask.

 

I escaped to an ocean,

but while at the pier,

I remembered the Goddess;

her presence was near.

 

But alas, I’d learned naught

from my errs of before,

and that fake taste of love

made me hunger for more.

 

Once again I fell fast

for that mirage of love,

who seemed fair as the sky

and as pure as the Dove,

 

but in fact was as black

as the Raven of Poe;

my administered friend

was a sinister foe.

 

And again I was left

as a shard of a man,

by the Woman whose namesake

was also her plan.

 

My body felt hot

as I lay near the pond,

for the fire in my soul

formed a desert beyond,

 

and the fragments of my

shattered self turned to soil,

and all things that grow in it

beseech of my toil.

 

More of my heart was lost,

yet a fraction remains,

and you might hear it crying

in the Spring when it Rains.

 

Once again I found strength

and survived this ordeal,

with a new sense of feeling,

and nothing to feel.

 

While practice makes perfect,

the third time’s the charm.

Even this could not teach me

 the truth about harm.

 

The one way to prevent…

but that’s beside the point,

for I must tell this tale;

there’s none else I’d appoint.

 

That tale about deserts

and oceans and dust;

it quite pains me to tell,

and yet tell it I must:

 

After leaving the desert

that once was a sea,

I alit to a place

very few ever see:

 

At the top of the world,

with my compass askew:

It is here that I realized

just what I would do.

 

In this place full of sunlight

and tigers and trees;

where the birds glide so light

on the warm summer breeze;

 

where the chirp of the cricket

and the croak of the frogs

sound as clear as a bell

though the murkiest fogs:

 

I would make this my home,

and would live without fear,

for not even a Goddess

could find me out here.

 

I would live, I would love,

I’d experience life.

I’d restitch my torn heart,

have a son and a wife.

 

Yes! Here is the place

where my life would begin,

and that Goddess would never

prevent it again.

 

But for naught; it is so

asinine to assume,

and my intimate thoughts

are what brought forth my doom.

 

I could not go a mile,

at any degree,

without hellish Denial

prohibiting me

 

from a second of thinking

that love could be true,

or from thinking that my heart

would see the night through.

 

For again I was crushed

by her truths and her lies.

I was deafed by her voice,

and made blind by her eyes.

 

And my heart, in a final

attempt to be whole:

it burst into flame

with unbearable cold,

 

and it killed all the frogs,

and it killed all the trees,

and no more is there sun,

or a warm summer breeze.

 

Now it’s nothing but ice,

and a gray barren sky,

and bears without color,

and birds that can’t fly.

 

Yes, my heart could not handle

this blow, though it tried.

It had finally succumbed,

so I lay down, and died.

 

And at once it was black

beyond Vision or sight,

just as black as the One

who had brought me this Night.

 

Then at once I was drenched

in a silvery pool,

and my soul became lifted

in heavn’ly renewal.

 

And as it ascended

through time and through space,

I realized, to my bliss

I could not see Her face.

 

I wish I could say

that I’m not really gone,

but its folly to think

that my heart will go on.

 

My soul ceased its ascent,

so I opened my eyes,

and sat up on the clouds

that make up April skies.

 

And I stared at the gates

wrought of silver and gold,

and I sensed what they held:

joy and peace unforetold.

 

I was Happy, for though

I had broken and died,

I would no more be crushed

and no more be denied.

 

For now that I’d left

my earthly catacomb,

she could no more delude me,

for now I was home.

 

I would live in pure bliss

for the rest of my days…

and that’s when the clouds

turned a pale shade of gray,

 

and the air, it grew dense

with a menacing mist,

and my soothed soul sank deep,

as into an abyss.

 

And I saw through the fog

by the edge of the gate,

Denial, who smiled

with mocking and hate.

 

She was waiting for me,

for to lead me inside,

and to haunt me forever,

even after I’d died.

 

And I knelt down in pain

 - I would never be free,

and the Goddess would always

take good care of me,

 

and make sure that I never

have courage or joy,

or a love or a peace

or a wife or a boy.

 

And I cried; but I could

not produce any tears,

for they’d all been consumed

by that River of Fears.

 

And my heart could not feel,

being Temples of rock,

and my soul had been squandered

on desert and dock,

 

and the rest of my heart,

before it was destroyed,

made that heavenly haven

a venomous void.

 

And I saw at that moment

what my fate had compiled:

I would always be Dead,

and would live with Denial.

 

And the lesson I learned

is both simple and curt:

If you never seek love,

you can never be hurt.

 

And that is my tale,

with its twists and its turns,

with its ups and its downs,

and its chills and it burns.

 

It’s a story I don’t

often tell, so feel blessed,

and be wary, and don’t

take the Goddess’ Test.

 

For the fate is a fate

you will never escape,

and the Scar does not come

from a cut or a scrape:

 

It will tear at your soul,

and will torment your brain,

and this I must endure

as long as I remain.

 

Though it was long ago,

yes, the memory still pains -

That’s the reason I cry

in the Spring when it Rains.

 

 

Author's Note

Thoughts, please!

Reviews

[Anand Sehgal]

While the feats are long past,
and the story is old,
all the persons remain;
to say “live” would be bold.

Marvelous. A good long write (ride) indeed :)

[Sharon L.H. Kelly]

A dark and haunting write. Excellent rhyme, rhythm, and flow. Very well done.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

An epic tale to which I do so relate. Pryde has said it all!

[Pryde Foltz]

Fantastic, your little warning tale. I laughed--it's the woman in me lol--at your travails and couldn't help hoping that in the end the Goddess would see sense. I feel your pain, man. Great write.

[Nick.B]

Amazing poem, very deep and emotional, the first stanza felt like a bob dylan song, great job

[Meesh]

Thanks for the review! I'm glad you enjoyed it :)